


Princesses of Chizeta

by whitedandelions



Category: Magic Knight Rayearth
Genre: Gen, Magic, Worldbuilding, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: Tarta’s desperate to prove she’s strong enough to protect Tatra, and ends up with a guardian spirit because of it.





	Princesses of Chizeta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [down](https://archiveofourown.org/users/down/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! This is the second part of your gift :). I matched with you on Uprooted~ but I could tell by your prompts that you really wanted magic knight rayearth and luckily!! I actually watched the series when I was young. I actually had the manga series on my bookshelf ^_^ and leafed through it to get a feel of Tarta and Tatra. I tried to work Caldina in, but couldn't fit Zazu and have it make sense haha.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy!

When Tarta was young, she practiced for hours with a sword until her hands were covered with blisters.  Tatra would scold her, and bodily force her to bed, but Tarta never stopped.  She had to prove herself; she knew she would never be as good at politics as her sister was.  She was too hot-headed, and too impatient to sit through the required hours of diplomacy. 

So she spent her time elsewhere.  She wasn’t the princess that Chizeta needed, and that was okay.  Tatra was older than her, even if only by minutes, and was the heir to their country.  She was the princess that Chizeta needed.

She was never jealous.  She loved Tatra more than she loved herself, and she tried her best to support her sister in any way she could.   Tatra was stern, but never to her.  She acted like a doting older sister whenever Tarta showed up, and sometimes, it got embarrassing.  She might not spend much time in the throne room, but Tatra didn’t need to treat her like a little kid. 

She tried to tell Tatra this one afternoon, but her twin just blinked large, innocent eyes at her and Tarta gave up.  Maybe this was what Tatra needed to keep sane; she needed to be able to tease and take care of Tarta and how could Tarta take that away from her?

She spent more time in the training rooms after that, desperate to carve a place for herself.

Her blisters were getting more and more painful, and it wasn’t right for the princess’s hands to look so unsightly.  She wore gloves until the pain got too much, and then snuck out of the palace to the marketplace. 

It was there she met Caldina.

Caldina followed her, and when they were alone, she blocked off the exit.  Tarta hadn’t even noticed her.

“And what are you doing here alone, princess?” asked Caldina, and Tarta shrunk back.  She didn’t even have her sword on her and she had fled her guards. 

But Caldina’s eyes were warm and she was smiling.  “And wearing _that_?” she clicked her tongue, reaching out and pinching the ratty hood Tarta had thrown on as a disguise. 

“It’s all I had,” she said, and Caldina’s eyebrows rose.

“The princess having a hard time finding clothes?” she sounded doubtful.  “I hardly believe that.  Why are you here?”

She shrugged, and debated telling the truth.  She held out her hands and flinched when Caldina took them into hers. 

“You’re hurt,” said Caldina.  She frowned.  “Come.”

Tarta followed despite her nerves, and was pleasantly surprised when Caldina led her to a house and treated her injuries with a pungent salve.

“What does a princess need to be strong for?” Caldina asked, after handing Tarta a warm cup of water, and Tarta paused, her treated hands warmed by the drink.

“For my sister,” she explained, and Caldina went silent, her expression thoughtful.

When she left, Caldina had asked for compensation for the salve.  “You didn’t think I was helping you out of the goodness of my heart, did you?” Caldina had asked, but Tarta knew Caldina didn’t mean it. 

She went back a week later.  Caldina let her in, and treated her blisters once again.  This time, Tarta paid double the amount.

It went on for a month until Caldina refused to treat her.  “No more practice,” she said, stern, and when Tarta protested, Caldina led her to a different room.  This one was full of books and as Tarta read the titles, she realized that Caldina knew magic.

“You don’t need a sword to be strong,” said Caldina, and gave Tarta a book to read.

It wasn’t easy giving up the sword.  But magic was interesting.  Caldina was able to cast illusions with just her dance and clothes, and Tarta was _fascinated_.

That was until it became apparent she couldn’t use it at all.  She struggled for days until she had to give up again.  She was nearly crying with helplessness, angry that this was another thing she wasn’t good at.

Tatra found her.

Warm arms enveloped her before she could look up, and she turned, burying her face into her sister’s chest. 

“Are you okay?” Tatra asked, her voice full of worry and Tarta shook her head.  “You’ve been gone a lot,” continued Tatra, but she didn’t press, her hand rubbing soothing circles on Tarta’s back.  She didn’t leave until Tarta was done crying, and even then, she only left because Chizeta needed her.

“You can’t cast magic,” said Caldina when Tarta gave her the book back.  “But that’s not why I gave you the book.”

Magic wasn’t for her.  But magic could do something else.  As long as her love was true, and her drive to become strong continued to flourish, there was something she could do.

She didn’t need a sword.  She didn’t need to study for years to become a magician.

She was a princess of Chizeta.

She might be the younger one, and she might not have a hand for politics, but she was still a _princess_.

And as a princess, she was going to protect her country.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Tatra.  Her hand was tight on Tarta’s, but she still followed Tarta down the winding steps.  She hadn’t even asked where they were going, and Tarta was grateful.  She wasn’t even sure where they were going.

They descended the rest of the way in silence, and Caldina was waiting for them at the bottom.  She was wearing a hood, but her dancer outfit was on underneath.  “Princesses,” she said, and bowed.  Then she held up two outfits.  Both were as revealing as hers but Tarta felt a kinship immediately with it.  “The two of you would look beautiful in these.”

Tatra hesitated, but when Tarta pulled them on, she followed suit.

Tarta didn’t realize her hands were shaking until they were pushing the door open.  She frowned, but when Tatra laid a hand on her shoulder, she shouldered through.  She wasn’t scared.

There was a stone in the middle of the room.  It had writing on it, and when Tarta placed her palm on it, she felt the warmth emanating. 

But nothing happened.  Until Tatra stepped forward and took her hand into hers.

Tarta gasped, and felt warmth surround her. 

Before her eyes, something was happening.  There was something forming out of the smoke that had suddenly entered the room and when Tatra tried to pull away out of shock, Tarta held tight.

“And who are you?” asked the red man who had formed.  She didn’t recognize him.  But Tatra gasped, and gripped harder.

“Rakoon,” she said, and the man tilted his head.

“How do you know my name?”

Tatra bit her lip.  “You’re our guardian spirit.”

Tarta’s eyes widened.  She whipped her head back, staring at the man.  He didn’t look like their guardian spirit; he was red like the pictures depicted, but he didn’t look like a _djinn_.  And where was Rasha?  There were supposed to be two of them.

“Am I?” asked Rakoon.  He was smiling.  “I don’t recall agreeing to protect you two.”

Tatra looked at a loss for words.  Tarta stepped forward.  “You are.  Along with Rasha.”

“Oh,” said Rakoon.  “So you know about my brother.”

“The two of you have promised to protect the royal family of Chizeta.”  Her voice sounded surer than she herself was.  She pressed forward, even though her stomach was in knots.  “And you will.” 

“You two haven’t proven yourself yet.”  The _djinn_ sounded bored.  “And yet you come here to make demands.  Little princess, the world isn’t at your feet, yet.”

“It will be,” she said, her voice sounding like the crack of the whip.  Rakoon blinked.  She took a chance. “You two will help us.” 

The _djinn_ bared his teeth.  But then he laughed.  “I like the spirit in you,” he said.  “Alright, I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.  The two of you will control me in a fight against my brother.”

There was suddenly a hand on each of their shoulders.  Red hands.  Tarta craned her neck back, and an identical _djinn_ was looking down at them.  Rakan.

“If I win,” said Rakoon, “then we will guard you.  But I’ll warn you now, I never won in a fight against my brother.”

“Then this will be your first,” said Tarta.  Rakoon laughed at her bold statement, and Tatra pulled at Tarta’s hand.

“Are you sure?” asked Tatra.  “I don’t know how to fight.”

“You won’t need to know,” she said, smiling.  “As long as we have each other, we will win.”

Tatra looked worried and unsure, but at Tarta’s words, she nodded her head, her mouth set in a determined line. 

* * *

“We have to dance?”

Rakan nodded.  Rakoon had disappeared when the two sisters had turned back around.

“I don’t understand,” continued Tarta, “We don’t know the moves and …”

Tatra cut her off by taking her hand once again.  “We can do it.”

Rakan smiled and inclined his head, as if inviting them to move forward and dance.

“I don’t know how,” whispered Tarta.

“It’s okay,” said Tatra.  “Just let your big sister do something, okay?  All the fighting’s going to be done by you.”

She took Tarta’s other hand and suddenly moved, forcing Tarta to twist with her.  Tatra moved fast, barely giving Tarta any time to think about how she looked dancing freely. 

Smoke seemed to come out of nowhere, and then Rakoon was suddenly there.  When Tarta raised her left hand, so did Rakoon.  But her right did nothing; she didn’t realize what this meant until Tatra raised her right arm, moving Rakoon as well.

He wielded his sword with his right hand.  Tarta’s sword expertise was rendered useless by this fact. 

It was clumsy, controlling the _djinn_.  They never had done so before, and they had to work together.  But they were twins, and it wasn’t hard to get used to the flow of things.  Tatra had drawn the sword and then given it to Tarta, and although it wasn’t with her dominant hand, wielding the sword was possible because of the sheer amount of hours she put into learning swordplay.

But Rakan seemed to dodge every attempt she made.  Every thrust, every slash was easily side-stepped.  And when she stopped in shock, Rakoon and Tatra doing the same, Rakan just stood there, with his hands behind his back.  He wasn’t fighting back.

She didn’t understand why.  He could take them out easily with a well-timed strike. 

“He’s testing us,” said Tatra.  “It’s because I don’t know how to wield a sword.”  Her sister sounded close to tears.  “I’m the reason we’re not going to win.”

“No,” said Tarta.  “It’s not that.”  She fell silent, unable to explain why she felt this way.  It just didn’t make sense; Rakoon had mentioned that he had never won in a fight against his brother.  And this was easily shown by the way Rakan easily dodged their moves.  But she didn’t think that was the only explanation.  The two of them were twins, just like Tarta and Tatra were.  Their strengths only complemented each other.

She watched as Rakan spread his fingers wide and a whip appeared in his hand.  Tatra gasped next to her, and then something weird happened.  Tatra was dancing again.  She took Tarta’s hands into hers again, and spun her around, Rakoon’s body following theirs.  This time they weren’t dancing freely, Tatra was leading them in controlled spins and fancy footwork, things they have been taught a long time ago.

When they stopped, smoke had surrounded Rakan.  When it disappeared, Rakan raised both his hands, his expression full of shock. 

“What’s going on?” asked Tarta.  

Rakan spread his arms open, and enveloped Rakoon in a hug.  In her surprise, she didn’t notice Tatra doing the same until her sister was smiling at her.

“The reason I never won,” explained Rakoon, “was because I have never fought my brother.  We are meant to be together.  Never apart.”

“And that’s why it worked,” explained Tatra, happily.  “Because we’re meant to control both of them _together_.”

She felt weak in her sister’s embrace, all the strength leaving her as relief filled her body.  She felt like crying, but Tatra was there, holding her up. 

* * *

 

The _djinn_ ’s promised to come to them when they called.  When they exited the cave, Caldina jumped off the stone she had been resting on.

“I knew you could do it,” she said, hugging both of them together. 

“Of course,” said Tatra, her eyes sparkling.  “Because we’re the princesses of Chizeta.”

“And sisters,” added Tarta, and smiled.


End file.
